Nobody saw the pigeon I passed;
I was an angel
Holding late setting sun.
Eyes of light blue
That crawled upon edges
Of shallow stages – dimly lit.
I was the gravest,
And as time lurched
It was I whom all met.

We beg for answers when we’ve shown no mercy.
We all do.
It’s the cruelest of tortures that bless us rancid
Until our feverish states blow our sails full.
Darker seas then any wind-swept sailor would care to see.

Rupturing up my torn soul
I do continue to howl in my brief waking hours
For my window has closed and my feet become sore
And my alley of sinister has just become cold,
To await my march as darkness in greeting.

Losing purpose of the mind
Inside contradicting thoughts
That flicker between yesterday
And a whole lot of dreams
Makes breathing increasingly harder,
Motivation a stubborn horse,
And walks through the park
Increasingly longer.

Whisper to me
For I never want to hear you,
I never want my ancient soul
To remember what storms have passed,
I never want to recognize
Landmarks in my heart
That have emblazoned this day
Upon embers of the phoenix.

Wonder when my foot shall sleep
Inside a better path,
For all my wishes that depart
Have fallen gracefully.
And like my step that flutters on
I shall eventually
Find my trail with out a map
Humming my favorite song.

Window shop my loneliness away,
Dove tails and fresh mocks.
I couldn’t remember your age
In the reflection of my heart.
I’ve lost my mind before we met;
Into which eyes do I resort?
Do I see through or reflect back?